


Dark Depths

by Alkuna



Category: Warriors - Erin Hunter
Genre: F/M, Kittypets (Warriors), RiverClan (Warriors), WindClan (Warriors)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-26
Updated: 2018-11-06
Packaged: 2019-07-17 21:42:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16104395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alkuna/pseuds/Alkuna
Summary: A new darkness has crept into the marshes of Riverclan; reeking of foul mud and glaring balefully from one eye. When a kit goes missing, the clan is in an uproar. It doesn't help when twolegs decide to rebuild the old horseplace, scaring all the prey.





	1. Chapter 1

The monster growled to a stop, grumbled to itself, then went silent with a long exhale like something dying. Freefall opened his eyes and blinked sleepily, and then nosed his mate awake with a gentle touch to her ear. Bast stretched eagerly, her long body stretching far enough to plant her flexing toes on the dashboard of the monster while her hind end remained on the seat.

Freefall, a gray, and Bast, a brown, were both Abyssinian kittypets rescued by their twoleg from a place that smelled of cats, dogs and misery. Brett was a twoleg who spent his life building twoleg nests and various other things for other twolegs. The two kittypets traveled wherever he went and earned their keep as mascots and hunting mice that sought to invade the nests while they were still being built.

Brett gave their ears a good scratching each and then opened the side door so they could pad out and explore.

A bit of exploration and a good sniff told them exactly why they were here. A building that smelled strongly of horses and mice was just beginning to show signs of being unstable. Though the horses were gone, based on the staleness of their scent, one scent caught Bast’s attention and drew her into the building.

“Where am I?”

Freefall leaped to his paws at the tiny cry and shot after his mate, ears perked to catch the faintest sound.

The air here held a chill that warned of snow in the coming Leafbare, and the large lake reflected the cloudless chilly sky. This wasn’t enough to distract the two cats from their purpose, as the little voice piped up “Mama? Birdstar? Anyone?” A frightened whimper was almost lost beneath the calls of the gathering twolegs.

“Freefall, there’s a kit in the stables. By the sounds of it, the parents are nowhere around.” Bast stuck her head in the open doorway, ears pricked.

“Well then it can’t stay there, can it?” Freefall grunted, “The whole place will be completely crushed by the jaws of the great yellow monsters they use by the end of tomorrow.”

Bast shot a glance at the monsters in question, waiting patient and silent on the thunderpath leading to the stables. One held a massive paw in the front, cupped like it was ready to scoop water, sharp claws lining the rim. The other bore a massive pair of jaws, made for seizing long pieces of nest and carrying the impossibly heavy loads out of the way. Nowhere was safe within a nest once the two beasts began destroying.

The fur along the she-cat’s back lifted and she flowed into the building like water. It was dark and smelled of wood rot and many moons of horse dirt and rotten hay. Sunlight slanted through breaks in the walls of the nest and dust motes were so thick that Freefall sneezed.

“Hello?” Bast called, “Who’s in here?”

There was a frightened gasp and the kit fell silent.

“You can come out now.” Freefall meowed, “We’re not going to hurt you.”

Silence.

“Please.” Bast pleaded, “Monsters are going to come consume this building and everything in it. You must come out!”

Sullen silence. Then… “Who are you?”

“My name is Freefall.” The tom introduced himself. “I was named after falling off of a twoleg nest and got stuck on long, sharp spikes of a twoleg fence.” The scar where the sharp points and speared the tender flesh of his leg had healed well inside, leaving only a small dimple in the flesh. The twolegs had taken great care to remove him and repair the damage where the metal teeth had punctured.

“I’m Bast.” The she-cat proclaimed proudly, “I was named when I was rescued by our twoleg.”

“Twolegs? Then you’re kittypets.” The young voice meowed. Slowly a pale gray tabby she-cat with tan paws edged out of the shadows to stare at them. “I’m Swishkit, and I’m going to be the best fisher in Riverclan!”

“Riverclan? There are no other cats in this nest. Are you a clan of one?” Freefall tipped his head curiously.

“N-no…” Swishkit looked downtrodden, “I don’t know where my clan is. I never left the camp before now.”

“And how did you end up here?” Swishkit jumped as Bast circled around behind her and gave her ears a soothing lick.

“I…” Swishkit tipped her head, thinking hard. “A stranger. Smelling of nasty, rotten mud. I think he took me away.”

The calls of twolegs made Swishkit cringe and the two kittypets turn their heads.

“All right, Swishkit. I’ll make you a deal. We’re going to be around this place for a little while. If we can find your clan, we’ll take you back to them. But for now, you really, really need to come with us.” Freefall got to his paws.

“Nuh uh. I’m not going out there. There are twolegs and monsters, I can hear them.” Swishkit edged back a step, only to bump into Bast, who nudged her forward again.

“Well you certainly can’t stand around here.” Bast meowed briskly, “Those twolegs plan to destroy this old nest, and before they do that, they’re going to tromp all around in here, bumping things, knocking them over, kicking them with their hard, clumsy paws. Do you want your tail trod on?”

Reluctantly, Swishkit allowed herself to be herded outside.

The twolegs called to one another as the three cats made their way out of the building. Only one paid them any mind, and it gave Freefall a greeting and reached down with a massive paw.

Swishkit hissed and ducked low, but Freefall greeted the twoleg enthusiastically and reared up on his hind legs to ram his head affectionately against the twoleg’s paw. The massive paw engulfed the kittypet’s head entirely and gave it a gruffly affectionate rub.

“You let that creature touch you?” Swishkit mewed in horror, as Freefall shook his fur back into order as the twoleg went back about its business.

“You’ll see. Sometimes it makes sense to be friendly with twolegs. These twolegs at least.” Freefall purred.

“Come on. Let’s get you out of the hubbub. You look like your fur is going to twitch itself right off any second.” Bast led Swishkit away from the nest.

The three cats made their way to the edge of the Horseplace and sat to watch the goings on. Twolegs were everywhere, walking in and out of the nest, hard fake pelts around their paws clomping heavily and noisily.

“You see those?” Freefall indicated with his tail at the large, dozing monsters, “Those are going to destroy the nest, starting when the sun rises. They make this great, earth-shaking growling sound, then they strike the nest with a terrific blow, and the nest will crunch like old egg shell. The last place you want to be is inside that nest when that happens.”

Swishkit shuddered all over. “S-So where do we sleep tonight?”

“In the belly of another monster.”

“No! No way! I’ve heard what those things can do to you if they hit you. You die instantly beneath their strange round paws!” Swishkit began to tremble.

Bast soothingly washed behind her ears. “They can’t hurt you if they’re still, and they don’t smell as bad inside. Besides, whoever left you in that nest wasn’t looking out for your own good. Do you want to sleep outside where they can find you again?”

The kit hesitated, torn and dancing from paw to paw in indecision. Finally, she meowed uneasily, “And how do you know the twolegs won’t take me away and force me to be a kittypet? I’m a Riverclan kit.”

When Freefall shrugged blankly in response to Bast’s inquiring glance she returned her attention to the kit before her. “Well I still don’t know what a Riverclan is, but these twolegs are good twolegs. They won’t force you to do anything. We’ve met cats from distant horizons. They are always welcome to come and go as they pleased as long as they didn’t pick fights with us or get in the twolegs way.”

A loud crash from the twoleg nest and a cloud of roiling dust seemed to decide Swishkit. After trying and failing to leap high enough to reach the bottom of the monster’s belly, she grumbled and allowed Freefall to pick her up and leap gracefully inside.

It was barely a few heartbeats after the cats made themselves comfortable that the twoleg Freefall had greeted came to the monster, calling in a strange tone. Freefall and Bast were on their paws, purring up a storm as the twoleg proudly laid a slab of meat the size of Swishkit on a flat twoleg thing on the seat of the monster. The twoleg greeted the two kittypets while Swishkit hid under the seat. Both cats welcomed the greeting and caresses, trying hard not to be too obvious in their longing glances at the meal the twoleg brought them.

Finally the twoleg left and the kittypets settled down, devouring the food eagerly. The heady scent of fish drew the shy kit out of hiding and she could only stare at the impressive slab of meat. Silver fish scales lined one side while pink flesh filled the rest of it. It smelled of fish, but that couldn’t be. No fish were that large, were they?

Accepting the inviting flick of Freefall’s tail, Swishkit took a bite. Her eyes snapped wide open and she swiped her tongue all the way around her mouth in amazement.

It _was_ fish! The fish had to have been huge, as the remains of a sizeable fin still lined one edge of the meat. It had been bigger than any warrior that ever lived when it had been swimming in the water. The three cats ate heartily and Swishkit lay contentedly against Bast’s side, sharing tongues with the larger kittypet.

“You see?” Bast purred, “Some two legs are worth it.”

“I guess so.”

“Tell me about your clan, Swishkit?” Freefall meowed, stretching out along the seat.

“We’re the best clan at the lake. Riverclan, the one I’m from, catches fish for their prey. We follow the warrior code. That’s a list of rules a good warrior needs to follow. We take care of each other, even in the worst times.” Sorrow flooded the kit’s eyes. “I wish I knew which way to go.”

“Tell me about this stranger you mentioned before. You said he smelled like rotten mud?” Bast scratched behind her ear with a hind paw, daintily.

“Y-yes… A big tom, I think. Black… maybe?”

“You think? Maybe?” You didn’t get a good look at him when he hauled you off?” Freefall have the kit a slightly scornful look. “If a cat dragged me across the land, I’d at least get a good look at him.”

“I’m just a kit, okay?” Swishkit yowled angrily, jumping to her paws. “He was covered in that rotten mud, it was night and the smell of him made my eyes water. It’s not like he introduced himself and declared his alliance before dragging me away! He said if I made so much as a squeak he would throw me in the lake!”

For once, Bast’s attempt to soothe the kit didn’t deter her. She stomped up to Freefall and glared up at him, “What do you want from me?” she half wailed, “One minute I was asleep and the next he was dragging me away! I’m just a kit for Starclan’s sake.”

Freefall blinked, his head tipped, and then his eyes gentled, “You’re right.” He touched her cheek with his nose in apology, “I’m sorry. That would scare me beyond all my wildest nightmares to wake up in the jaws of a stranger.”

As Swishkit slowly calmed down, Bast thought carefully and then asked, “What else do you remember about him?”

There was a long silence. Finally Swishkit huddled into herself and mewled anxiously. “I caught a glimpse of his face. I thought I was imagining it. He was crazy. There was nothing but rage. He had one yellow eye, and a big horrible scar where the other one should have been. It looked like someone had clawed it out.”


	2. Chapter 2

Things slowly quieted as the twolegs finished their noisy inspection of the horseplace and settled down in their portable nests for the evening. True to the kittypets’ promise, the humans left the kittypets and kit alone.

That night they slept in the belly of the monster, listening to the trilling of frogs by the lake and soothed by the low rumbles of distant twoleg conversation, which dropped off to silence as the night wore on.

Bright and early the next morning, Freefall slipped outside to make dirt. The lake seemed peaceful. Far across to the distant shore, a group of cats was padding away into the forest, off on unknown business.

A chilly breeze ruffled his fur and he shivered, muttering “Brrrr,” to himself. He was grateful that the coldest moons were soothed by warm nights with Brett and his nest.

Something faint drifted to his ears and he perked them. It sounded like a cat. A rather frantic cat. A breeze stirred and the rustling of the plants filled Freefall’s ears, until he could hear nothing but the cloud of fallen leaves.

The smell of bacon drifted to his nose and his mouth watered hungrily. Oh, of all the times for the twolegs to make that heavenly food! He glanced back and saw the twolegs drinking that foul, bitter black stuff and greeting one another sleepily. There wasn’t much time before they would get to work destroying the nest and then no cat could hear his own footsteps in the dry leaves for all the noise that would be going on.

“…..iiiiit”

There! Just as the leaves settled down again, he could barely pick out the faded parts of the call. Freefall bounded toward the sound, ears perked for the call again.

“Swii-“

SSSSHHHHHHHH. Leaves buffeted the kittypet’s face and ears, half blinding him. He staggered on, determined.

Swi…it? Possibly… Swishkit? If that was the case then Freefall definitely needed to find the one who was calling.

Abruptly the ground went from firm to boggy beneath his paws, and he tumbled into a wet stretch of land: cold water and sticky mud oozing halfway up his legs. By some miracle, he managed not to lose his footing and land face first in the muck.

“Get out of here!”

Freefall shook his head violently and finally dislodged the leaf that had plastered itself across his eyes.

“Excuse me,” he meowed politely, “Are you looking for someone?”

“No I’m not!” spat the voice, and the Abyssinian’s insides turned cold.

The speaker was a large tom, his dark fur plastered so thickly with foul smelling mud that it was nearly impossible to tell its color. A single yellow eye glowered back at him with low burning anger. A fresh scar raked down his missing eye and dribbled down to his jaw, looking raw and poorly healed. He was incredibly thin, and looked distinctly unhealthy.

“You’re not welcome here, and you won’t find what you’re looking for this way. Go back to your filthy twolegs before I send you back with a face to match mine.” The tom stalked forward aggressively. If the kittypet hadn’t outweighed the filthy creature, he would have fled without a backward glance.

“And how do you know that I won’t find what I’m looking for?” He meowed coolly.

“I said get out!” the filthy stranger lashed out with a paw, and the kittypet ducked smoothly, retaliating by head butting the scarred cat a full length backward into a thick patch of mud and horsetail.

“Crawl in the muck where you belong.” The tom growled as the stranger flailed in the slippery stuff, one eye now blazing in full fury.

“You’ll be sorry you ever-“

An earth shaking roar froze the cat in his tracks and one of the yellow monsters lumbered past, so near that the ground shook beneath their paws and blew their fur backward with foul smelling smoke. There was a pause, and then a horrendous crunch as the scooped paw impacted a wall of the horseplace.

All the rage vanished from the scarred cat’s eye in an instant, and with a wild little grin, he turned his back on the kittypet. “Watch your back kittypet, Bloodfang has already claimed one life this day.”

“What kind of sick cat would take such a horrible name?” Freefall muttered to himself, “At least my name also shows off my ability to jump.”

With a deft sideways slither, the self proclaimed Bloodfang vanished into the horsetail, the trail through the muck and plants well hidden by the way the springy plants stood up after the Rogue’s passing.

Sighing, Freefall resigned himself to the fact that he had failed to find the cat that was searching for Swishkit. Another thunderous crunch convinced the tom that there was no hope of howling his own name, much less tracking the faint calls in this boggy ground.

He cast a final longing stare into the territory, away from where the mad cat had gone. It looked like a good place for cats who loved to fish, with a stream running right through it. He would come back... later.

“You’re a mess,” Bast announced when he squelched his muddy paws back onto dry land and morosely tried to shake the clinging muck from each leg.

“Yes. And I think I met your nightmare kidnapper.” Sharing a few remaining strips of bacon with Swishkit, he described the stranger. “He seemed to be calling himself Bloodfang.”

Bast curled her lip. “Horrible, hateful name.”

Swishkit flinched. “I… I heard a story. I wasn’t supposed to hear it. Canepaw was whispering it to Softpaw. Riverclan offered to let a Rogue join. When a warrior asked him to show his fighting ability, he used a move no cat had ever seen before in Riverclan. The warriors were impressed… until they realized he wasn’t letting go. He was suffocating Falconheart, and ignored Birdstar’s call to let go. I didn’t hear what happened next because Canepaw’s mentor called him off to do a patrol.”

“Someone must have intervened then. And the Rogue lost his eye because of it.” Bast murmured, while Freefall set about trying to wash himself clean. “Unless of course, Falconheart didn’t make it?”

“Pttthhhhp.” Freefall replied unhelpfully, spitting out a clod of dirt that had gotten caught up in the sticky mud.

“No, no, Falconheart’s okay. But it explains why he came for revenge on my clan; we took his eye, so he took me.”

“Well, either way, we now know where to look.” Freefall took a quick break from washing. “If we avoid Bloodfang’s slimy little lair, we may meet up with your clan.”

A terrific snapping sound made the cats jerk their heads in the direction of the horseplace. The monster with the jaws had seized a beam and ripped it free of the half crushed nest. With a series of cracks, the rest of the nest gave way, settling into a pile of rubble and sharp splinters. The beasts growled their approval and began dragging the pieces away as though it were freshkill to be devoured at another location.

“No point in going anywhere right now. All this racket will make it impossible to hear your clan mates unless we trip over them.” Bast sighed; she was looking annoyed, for once, at the great beasts and their destructive tasks.

The rest of the day was peaceful, in the way of kittypets. Swishkit slowly grew immune to the horrible racket of the monsters, though she just couldn’t bring herself to do anything more than hide from the twolegs. Bast kept her busy throughout the day, playing games and teaching the kit how to stalk the twolegs.

Freefall watched solemnly, a heavy frown on his face. Swishkit was playing, it was true, but her eyes were fever bright, and she played with an unnatural intensity for a kit. He could tell that the kit was missing her mother horribly and was trying to force herself not to spend every waking heartbeat fretting. It didn’t take much watching to see the kit glancing, only for a second, in the direction of the marshy territory with a painful longing on her face before shaking her head in a quick jerk and leaping on Bast’s tail with a fierce yowl.

After sunhigh, Bast could have sworn she saw a strange cat peeping out of the boggy territory, mouth open in horror at the destruction and rubble being dragged away, but the stranger vanished before she could bound over to greet them. The sun was sinking by the time the monsters were put aside for the night. The only sign that the horseplace had been there at all was a massive scar of damp earth, left by the monsters as they had done their work.

Swishkit allowed Freefall to lift her into the monster’s belly without a mew of complaint and sank at once into a deep, exhausted sleep.

“I’m worried, Freefall.” Bast admitted to her mate anxiously as they sat on the monster’s muzzle and gazed at the stars. “Swishkit’s heart is going to burst and kill her if she keeps going like this. She ran herself into the ground, and I actually had to force her to stop or she would have run her paws raw running and pouncing and chasing and playing.”

Freefall nodded curtly, “I saw.” His tail twitched, “Poor little scrap. Today was too much to go looking. The noise would have driven every wild cat into dens miles away.”

“I… I saw one, actually.” Bast admitted. When her mate touched her ear with his nose to show he was listening she told him about what she had seen.

“Then we must go tomorrow.” Freefall murmured. “We will eat and we will go. Swishkit obviously doesn’t belong with us.”

Bast sighed and nodded in silent agreement. It was wonderful having a kit around again, but she also knew that if she were Swishkit’s mother, she would be fretting her fur off every heartbeat of every day.

“Come.” Freefall finally murmured, “We’d better get some sleep. That boggy ground is large, and there’s no knowing how long we’ll have to tromp around before those cats come investigate.”

 

.

 

A screech early the next morning had Freefall tumbling out of the monster before he was even fully aware of what was going on.

“Go on! Say it again! Accuse Windclan of kit stealing one more time!” a voice snarled.

“Don’t try to deny it! Our best trackers followed our kit’s scent right to the horseplace, only to find it crushed! If you want a war, then by Starclan you’ve got one!” Another cat sounded on the verge of blind rage.

“Windclan doesn’t steal kits from other clans,” a voice tried to soothe; “we have our own to take care of.”

“So instead you try to thin out the ranks of your competing clans by killing their kits?” the raging cat wasn’t interested in being mollified.

There was a gasp of outrage. “How dare you! Windclan follows the warrior code! That’s more than can be said for the furry fish of Riverclan!”

The rest was lost in screeches of rage and the sound of cats fighting.

Brett could move quietly when he wanted to, and the cats were too busy fighting to realize that they’d attracted his attention. He gave a sharp bellow and violently thrust a Carrything in the direction of fighting.

Silence descended immediately, as dazed cats blinked. Of the six poised in battle moves, not a single cat had escaped the deluge of water that had surged from the mouth of the big white object. Normally such Carrythings held boggy, colored mud, which twolegs would coat the outsides of nests with. This one had been full of water, for reasons Freefall didn’t understand. Still, it was very effective.

Brett growled and stomped in their direction, and the wild cats lost their surprise immediately; scattering in two directions and fleeing the angry words that followed them.

Freefall made a scornful spitting noise and Brett stroked the kittypet’s head absently, muttering in a tired and irritable tone. Apparently Freefall wasn’t the only one rudely awakened by the racket.

The scents of twoleg food woke up a sleepy Swishkit and Bast in a way that fighting cats hadn’t.

“My legs feel like lead,” Swishkit mumbled sleepily after hesitantly accepting an offered sausage from one of the friendlier twolegs. She chewed on one end absently.

“Well I’ve got news that should put some energy into those paws of yours.” Bast meowed, licking her whiskers clean. “Once we’re finished eating, we’re going into your Riverclan land.”

Swishkit dropped the half eaten sausage and stood tall. “Really? You promise?”

“I promise. But finish eating first. We don’t know how long it will be before we meet with cats from your clan.”

Freefall stifled a purr of amusement as the kit gulped down the final mouth full and bounced eagerly around the calmer kittypets.

The twolegs would be pouring liquid stone today, so things would be somewhat less noisy than yesterday. With luck, it would be easier to meet the wild cats if they didn’t have to yowl their names in one another’s ears just to be heard.

The kittypets’ confidence waned as they crossed into the boggy territory well upstream from Bloodfang’s rancid lair. Although there was no sign of the bloodthirsty Rogue, the land itself proved to be an obstacle.

Water had carved this ground into a maze of small ditches, hidden by lush sheltering plants. Swishkit discovered this by giving a squeal of dismay and vanishing from sight; swallowed and covered over by the long plants.

Bast’s heart stopped for what felt like eternity until the kit swore something about mouse dung and a grasping paw shot up out of the ditch and clung to the long grass. The ditch, while deeper than the kit was tall, only held enough water to wet her little paws rather than drown her. Freefall stepped forward to help her climb out and lost his entire front end to another, deeper ditch.

Hind end in the air like a banner and front end sunk up to his chest in soupy mud, the kittypet allowed himself the luxury of cursing in an undertone too low for a kit to hear, and using words not fit for young ears anyway. He had to admit to himself though, it was better that he fell in this particular one. It would have sunk the kit in up to her little nose or higher; possibly choking her mouth with the stuff and suffocating her. His hind end gave a wiggle and he backed himself out of the ditch, scrabbling with his front paws to shove himself free.

Lesson learned, the three cats moved single file, Freefall testing each step and helping Bast to pass the kit across the boggiest parts of the territory.

Motion to the left caught his eyes and his mouth dropped open as a swarm of cats flowed out of a nearby stream. Moving in unison, they flowed clear of the water without bothering to shake the water from their fur. They raced up the slope toward the three cats. With no visible signals, they circled around the three, lips drawn back in threatening snarls.

“Well, well, well. Look what the dogs dragged in. A couple of kittypets, looking for trouble.” The speaker was a black tom with a white jaw, and his eyes were angry and eager to fight.

Freefall’s heart sank to the pads of his paws. Had he been wrong? Was he returning the kit to a clan that did nothing but shed blood?

Grimly, he braced himself for the fight of his life. Even if he fell, Bast might still be able to get the kit to safety.


	3. Chapter 3

The cats were all smaller than the kittypets. Sleeker, but also smaller in stature. Smaller generally meant faster, but less able to take a proper blow. Narrowing his eyes, Freefall sank into a low crouch.

“Wait a minute, Wishstream,” a she-cat meowed. “They have a kit with them. No cat with any brains takes a kit into a fight.”

“Your logic hinges on the idea that they _have_ brains.” Wishstream muttered, but seemed to subside slightly.

The she-cat, a silvery gray with dark gray tabby marking turned her gaze upon the two kittypets, who crouched low on either side of Swishkit, trying to shield her from view as much as protect her. “I’m Secretweb,” she introduced herself. “Who are you?”

Since Freefall was eyeing the other, more aggressive cats with grim readiness, Bast answered for them all. “I’m Bast. He’s Freefall. We’re guiding a kit named Swishkit to find Riverclan.”

Shocked silence descended on all the cats.

“Swishkit is gone.” Secretweb managed finally, seeming to struggle with a lump in her throat. “I watched the monsters devour the nest where her scent lead to.”

“I’m not gone!” the small indignant mew rang out, and Swishkit wriggled out from between the kittypets.

Secretweb’s mouth fell open and then she sprang forward, purring for all she was worth. “Swishkit! Oh Swishkit it IS you! We were so frantic! And when we saw the monsters and the nest and your scent it… Oh we must get you to camp right away! Your mother… she…”

Swishkit rubbed affectionately against Secretweb. “These kittypets saved me. Please, let them come to camp too? Then they can help tell the camp what happened.”

“I think that would be a very good idea.” Meowed a strange voice.

Freefall glanced over and saw a black tom with a red-ish underbelly. He didn’t look quite like the other cats; less violent. His amber eyes were kind as they roved over the kittypets. “Please,” he added, “You’ve done Riverclan a favor by bringing one of our own home. The least we can do is offer proper hospitality.”

Wishstream gave a put upon sigh, but no cat argued with the stranger.

“My name is Appleseed,” he introduced himself, “and I’m Riverclan’s Medicine Cat.”

Freefall listened with only half an ear as Appleseed explained his duties to the clan and about Starclan. It meant little to him; these were feral cats who lived lives far from his own. He had no reason to feel any disrespect, but he also had little interest in head fluff things like dead warriors and mystical signs. He glanced at Bast and she, at least, seemed to be paying rapt attention.

_Well good for her._ He decided, helping Secretweb pass Swishkit over the final stream, _She always did like learning strange things about strange cats. As long as she’s not bored, I won’t complain!_

As they stepped into camp, Freefall was impressed for the first time. Tucked safely behind the streams of water, the camp was shielded from view outside. Even Bast made a soft sound of curiosity and fascination as they streamed through the entrance. The kittypets could never have guessed so many cats were hidden among the reeds and tucked away beyond the sheltering foliage.

Bast could feel Freefall straightening under the gazes up so many cats. Some were curious, some hostile, some appeared to be waiting for the first sign, and one came forward, dipping his head respectfully to the visitors.

“I am Birdstar, leader of Riverclan. Welcome to our camp.” A red ticked tabby tom, this cat wasn’t much larger than the others, but there seemed to be something about him that made him bigger nonetheless.

“Thank you.” Bast greeted the large tom with a slow, friendly blink.

“Secretweb has informed me that you found one of our kits at what was the horseplace.”

“It will be a horseplace again,” Bast assured them. “They just needed to rebuild it. But yes, she was found inside the evening before the monsters crushed it in their jaws.”

Gasps and horrified whispers ran through the cluster of cats.

“Swishkit!” A pale gray tabby plunged heedlessly through the surrounding cats and covered her kit in licks. Swishkit’s protests were muffled and halfhearted at best at the fuss, and Secretweb flashed Freefall a small twitch of her whiskers.

Freefall noticed the family resemblance between the three cats and nodded to himself. This new cat was Swishkit’s mother, and Secretweb was Swishkit’s aunt. Small wonder the youngster was so enthusiastic to see them both again.

Leafglow, as she was introduced, looked ragged and thin; her fur obviously unkempt. It was obvious she had practically lost the will to live without her kit. The look she gave the kittypets was warm and deeply moved, if short lived, as she returned to reassuring herself that her kit was alive and well.

Finally Birdstar gently intervened and asked Swishkit to tell the cats what had happened the night she was taken. Then Bast and Freefall related discovering Swishkit and trying to find her family.

Every cat grew hushed as Bloodfang’s involvement was described.

“So that is what he is calling himself now.” A dark brown she-cat with black paws and ears growled darkly. Falconheart. “That cat’s original name was Sparkfire, and he was a fox hearted Shadowclan exile. He proved his true intentions before the clan. He lost his eye when Wishstream saved my life.”

“He’s still in your territory.” Freefall warned them, “He’s made a hidden lair in the boggiest cluster of reeds by the lake.”

A shadow swooped over the clan and cats hissed and ducked as a big crow swooped over the camp and continued beyond, vanishing into the distance.

Appleseed’s eyes glazed over for a moment, and then he shook himself and padded briskly off to a hidden area of the clan’s camp, muttering to himself. A gray kit with striking orange eyes sidled sideways along the outside of the gathered cluster of cats and with exaggerated sneakiness, vanished after the Medicine Cat.

“We wish to extend our hospitality to you,” Birdstar meowed, drawing Freefall’s attention back to them, “In thanks of returning our kit to us.”

“We are glad we could help.” Bast meowed.

The clan slowly dispersed, but Secretweb remained to show the kittypets around the camp and territory. Bast and Secretweb were quickly immersed in chatting like old friends about everything from hunting prey to the loyalty between clan cats and sharing stories about mischief from kithood. Freefall trailed along in patient silence, amused at how long she-cats could chatter about nothing.

A tortoiseshell tom named Clearlake didn’t let Freefall suffer in bored silence for long; drawing the kittypet tom away, he invited the kittypet to come learn how to hunt fish the Riverclan way. Since he was well fed by his twoleg, Freefall accepted on the idea that it would be more interesting than chattering away. He even experienced a glow of pride when he caught his first fish and presented it proudly to Clearlake for his clan to feast upon.

The day was drawing to a close when Clearlake and Secretweb escorted the Kittypets back to the edge of Riverclan territory. Both cats felt full in ways that had nothing to do with their bellies, and settled down for the night to snooze with contented purrs.

 

.

 

It was sunhigh the next day before a commotion woke Bast from a lazy snooze.

“I-I can’t move my paws!” a small voice mewed.

“Hold still! Maybe I can find a twig to haul you out.”

“Nnng, it’s no good, I can’t even free a front paw to grab it!”

“Don’t move! I’ll come pull you free.”

“No don’t! You’ll get stuck too!”

Bast slid out of the Monster’s belly and padded out so see what the commotion was. A tortoiseshell tom kit was a tail length out into the middle of the newly laid foundation of the new horseplace, paws sunk halfway into the hardening goop. A tan tabby tom with gray paws was holding a branch out to his stuck companion, growling encouragement through teeth that were clenched tightly around one end.

“Fluff headed mouse brain!” Bast meowed, “What possessed you to go out into that stuff?! It hardens like stone when it dries!”

“It looked like stone already,” the trapped kit mewed, “Please, help me! I don’t want to be swallowed by a stone!”

Bast rolled her eyes. The stuff was far too dense for a kit to sink into, but with the Poured Stone baking in the heat, the kit was likely to die from the heat before the inattentive twolegs realized what was going on.

Padding through the gathered monsters, she soon found Brett laying back with a pelt across his eyes, lazing away while digesting his sunhigh meal.

Hopping up next to him she patted the pelt off his face.

“Wake up snooze head. There’s a kit that needs your help.”

Brett squinted drowsily at her and gave her head a light scratching before closing his eyes again.

“Wake up mouse brain!” she meowed loudly, patting his face again.

Brett made an annoyed sound and half sat up.

“Finally.” Bast leaped down and padded a few steps away, turning to look back at him and calling “Come on!”

The twoleg gave a long gusty sigh and followed her, rubbing the back of his neck with a large paw. His slow, irritated shuffle changed to a brisk jog when he rounded the nose of a monster and saw the kit stuck in the middle of the Poured Stone.

Speaking in what could only be a scolding tone, the twoleg lifted the kit clear and smoothed the churned stuff with a flat tool before carrying him away to a Carrything full of water. Dipping the petrified kit lightly in the deep water, Brett washed the kit’s paws clean of the clinging stuff and dried them with an old towel.

“How could you?” the other kit demanded in an accusing tone, “Now that twoleg will take Flashkit away and force him to be a kittypet!”

“Watch it kit,” Freefall growled, padding up behind the kit, “We’re kittypets.”

“You?” the kit squeaked. “But you’re HUGE! Kittypets are slow and fat, not big and muscular.”

Freefall snorted scornfully.

“What’s your name?” Bast asked.

“I’m Hailkit. Flashkit and I are going to be Riverclan warriors.”

“More Riverclan kits.” Freefall muttered, “At this rate we’ll be rescuing all of Riverclan one day.”

“Speak it, and it might as well become so,” Bast scolded, as Flashkit was set down gently by her side.

Brett tweaked Bast’s ear and spoke in an exasperated tone before slouching away again.

“W-what did the twoleg say?” Flashkit mewed, eyes wide as the moon.

“Either to keep you out of trouble or to take you back where you belong most likely.” Bast guessed, putting as much confidence in her voice as possible.

Brett was a good twoleg, and at times acted enough like a cat that the kittypets could figure out what he wanted by listening to his tone of voice. Not that it took much thinking to know that the twolegs didn’t want to find more kits stuck in the Poured Stone. They spent a lot of effort making the Poured Stone perfectly smooth, and certainly disliked it getting all ruffled by cat paws.

“With luck,” Freefall meowed, “We’ll get you back to your clan AND manage to keep you out of too much trouble as well.”

“Not that I can say what will happen when your clan finds out that you two adventurers ran off,” Bast meowed ominously, leading the kits back to the edge of Riverclan territory.

The two kits drooped and sulked while they waited. It didn’t take long for a patrol to come by. A patrol which sped up when they spotted the four cats waiting at the border.

“Great Starclan!” Clearlake meowed with a pointed glare at both Flashkit and Hailkit, “My own kits can’t learn to behave themselves. Dewleg was crazy as a badger with a burr stuck in its ear.”

“Why is it that whenever kits go missing, it’s the two Kittypets who find them?” Wishstream growled, ignoring everyone but the Abysinnians.

“Now Wishstream,” Falconheart meowed soothingly, before Bast could fire off a scathing retort, “If they were the cats taking them away, they certainly wouldn’t wait patiently by the border for a patrol to come along. You might as well come back with us,” she added, “since you two were apparently a part of finding the kits again.”

“What happened this time?” Clearlake meowed, once the clan settled around them all to listen raptly, “I’m sure every cat wants to know. Especially me.” He finished with another pointed glare at the sulking kits.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Bast began, “I woke up to hear the kits panicking and Flashkit stuck halfway to his belly in Poured Stone.”

“What’s Poured Stone?” A cat interrupted.

“It’s like stone, but when it’s wet, can be poured like thick mud.” Freefall explained, “Twolegs use it to build the bottoms of nests and sometimes the nests themselves. It hardens as it dries, until it’s as hard as any stone you find in the streams. Anything stuck in the stuff when it’s totally dry, stays stuck.”

Dewleg shuddered and triple checked Flashkit’s paws for any trace of the terrible, hardening stuff.

“My twoleg is a good twoleg, when he saw Flashkit stuck, he cleaned the kit’s paws and gave him to me to take care of.” Bast meowed.

“Why would you leave camp?” Dewleg meowed angrily, “You know you’re not supposed to, especially without telling any cat!”

“What I want to know,” Birdstar meowed promptly after, “is _how_ these kits keep getting out of the camp. One stolen kit is a fluke. Two kits who leave deliberately, means there’s a secret path.”

The kits hunkered down sullenly.

“Answer the question,” Dewleg demanded, “Birdstar is your clan leader and his word is law.”

“We… we found a ditch.” Hailkit mewed unwillingly, “It’s behind the Nursery. We followed it all the way to the horseplace.”

“A ditch!” Freefall exploded, “Do you have any idea what makes a ditch? Flowing water, that’s what! I fell into one trying to bring Swishkit home. It was so full of soupy mud that it would have choked the breath out of a kit! You could have died; both of you could have died, and no cat would have known what happened to you.”

“Starclan kept you safe,” Bast mewed in a gentler tone, “But all that means is that you were both very lucky to have them watching out for you.”

“But all we wanted was to have an adventure!” Hailkit protested, “After all, Swishkit got to leave camp.”

“I _what_?” Swishkit meowed outraged, “I _got to leave camp_? I didn’t _get to_ do anything! I was stolen by a crazed cat that wanted me _dead_! I was scared the whole time until Bast and Freefall found me! I didn’t even know how to get home!”

“And what if Bloodfang had found you while you were in the ditch? How would you have gotten away?” Bast murmured.

This clearly hadn’t occurred to the kits, and they lost their defiant expressions. Glancing at one another in newfound fear, they both then stared at their toes, shamefaced.

“We… we didn’t think…” Flashkit faltered.

“Obviously,” Birdstar growled. “Show us exactly where this ditch begins and then go back to the nursery. If you two behave yourselves in the coming moons, I _might_ decide that you don’t have to wait an extra moon to become an apprentice.”

“Y-you’d hold us back?!” Flashkit meowed, horrified.

“If I am not satisfied that you have learned your lesson, yes I will.” Birdstar growled sharply.

 

.

 

Secretweb stepped into the ditch that the kits pointed out, barely a pawlength deep in the center, and began padding along it, a selected patrol that included the kittypets and Birdstar himself following along the banks. The farther the ditch went, the deeper it became, until the warrior was hidden by walls and covered over by hanging plants. It was the perfect place for a cat to traverse through most of Riverclan territory unseen and unsmelled.

When the cats along the rim could no longer follow her by sight, the obliging warrior stood her tail up as far as it would go. The warriors followed that until it too was lost.

“Let me,” Freefall offered, and cautiously allowed himself to slide into the ditch. Secretweb looked back at him, her eyes luminous in the dim light. It felt slightly tight for the Abyssinian, but quickly widened the further they went. With his tail held high, the warriors traced their path. It finally stopped getting deeper, much to everyone’s mutual relief. No cat was sure what to do if it got too deep to let even Freefall’s tail to be seen.

Finally, the walls began to sink again.

“We’re approaching the lake,” Bast called from above.

Freefall and Secretweb kept padding along until sunlight streamed down upon them and the ditch opened out on the shore of the lake. Kittypet and warrior alike blinked at the sudden intrusion of the light and stepped out, marveling at how the springy grass near the lake’s edge concealed the tunnel.

The marshiest part of Riverclan territory, Bloodfang’s hiding place, was just visible across the nearby stream.

“Those kits are _so_ lucky,” Bast breathed, “Look at how close the stream is. If it had rained recently, this ditch would have been flooded.”

“It was plenty wet,” Freefall growled, shaking his muddy paws. “Water obviously seeped through the dirt into this ditch from the stream. The walls practically oozed water nearly half the length of this ditch.”

“I think we’ve found out how Bloodfang got to the camp,” Secretweb meowed solemnly. “The question is… what will we do about it?”

Birdstar looked thoughtful, and then his gaze hardened.


	4. Chapter 4

“Nothing.”

“What?!” the cats demanded in unison.

“Birdstar, you can’t possibly be thinking of letting this cat terrorize your clan any farther.” Freefall was the first cat able to speak his thoughts without spluttering incoherently.

“I promise you, that’s not my intent,” the clan leader reassured the cats. “Bloodfang is hiding away in the most treacherous part of the lake. There’s a reason we don’t make it part of our territory. The ground is soupy, and the reeds make it impossible to see anything. A patrol sent in there could easily give away their position if they didn’t sink past their ears in the mire.”

Slowly the cats nodded. It made sense.

“We can’t track him through Riverclan territory,” Freefall allowed, “He won’t be so polite as to stick his tail up so we can catch him. If he was sneaky before, he’ll be sneaky again. And finding and filling every ditch in the clan’s territory will take moons if not seasons.”

“Well you certainly can’t leave your nursery where it is now,” Bast continued, and Secretweb meowed her agreement.

“So, we wait.” Birdstar finished. “The kits trade places with the warriors. We’ll keep a guard at the entrance and at the ‘nursery.’ Bloodspark will come when he thinks the distress of ‘losing’ a kit has died down.”

_If he’s sane enough to think that far ahead._ Bast wanted to add, remembering the description of the Rogue’s insanity.

Freefall narrowed his eyes, “Keep your ears pricked toward your neighbors too. We both heard the scuffle with Windclan. What would make this Rogue happier than if two clans went to war?”

Secretweb lay her ears back.

Birdstar regarded the two kittypets and then nodded to himself. “Freefall, Bast, you two have been good friends of Riverclan. I’m going to give permission to let you cross into Riverclan territory anytime you wish. Something tells me you’ll be good allies in the days to come, and this freedom will make things easier for every cat.”

Bast dipped her head gratefully, and Freefall nodded solemnly. Bast seemed to take the gift with more understanding and seriousness than Freefall felt; but even he understood, somewhat, what kind of honor this was.

As the cats went their separate ways, Bast looked at Freefall, her eyes warm. “Just think, my love,” she purred, “Even when we leave, the stories of our aid to the clan will be told in their clan for moons to come. I rather like the idea of leaving pawprints wherever we’ve been.”

Freefall touched her cheek with his nose gently, “And our own kits shall hear of how we saved a whole clan of cats.”

 

.

 

As the sun crept up over the horizon, Freefall scowled as he clawed at the chilled earth to bury his dirt. An icy mist curled and coiled over the land from the monsters to the lake. It would burn off later, but this was an unpleasant reminder that leaffall was becoming leafbare.

The twolegs seemed to be aware of this, because every twoleg made a quick breakfast before getting right to work.

Bast mewed a sleepy complaint as the high beeping calls of the monsters and banging of tools on wood dragged her unwillingly out of sleep. “I dreamed the sun was warm and the grass was all but calling my name to come have a roll,” she groused.

“Let me join you and I won’t begrudge you a bit of it.” Freefall gently pushed the remains of the twolegs breakfast at her.

“Poor Riverclan.” The she-cat added as she began to wash her face.

“Hmmm?”

“The clan relies on prey for food. There’s no chance the prey will ignore this racket.”

He sighed his agreement. The kittypets were used to the noise, and could easily ignore it since it didn’t affect them or whether or not they were fed. But the clan was in a somewhat more tenuous position.

Abruptly Bast jumped to her paws, staring hard into the mists.

“What is it?” he murmured quietly, eyes sweeping the mists for what might have caused such a sharp reaction.

“I thought…” Bast scowled and shook her head.

“What?”

“I thought I saw movement in the mist, but the stuff is crawling around like a clan of snakes. I couldn’t tell if it was solid or a trick of the wind.” Bast began to wash her tail in short, irritated strokes.

Freefall lay his tail gently across her back. “You’re really worked up about this aren’t you?”

“Of course I am. Aren’t you? Any cat that fancies himself a kit killer needs to be ended.” She kneaded the ground with her sharp claws.

Hearing such a ferocious statement from the gentle she-cat took him aback, but after thinking a moment, he had to agree. Technically, they didn’t owe this clan anything. When the horseplace was built they would leave, possibly to never come back. They would be far away from the troubles of one clan and its Rogue troubles.

Clearlake’s face drifted up in Freefall’s mind. He had been genuinely happy when Freefall had given him that one bit of prey to take back to the clan. Secretweb had bonded with Bast almost instantly. The two cats were all but sisters.

He sighed. He didn’t want to leave his twolegs and live a hard, scarred life of a Warrior cat. That life was not for either of them. That had been proved when he and his mate had been abandoned in the twoleg place and then taken to where they had been rescued. No, technically, they didn’t owe Riverclan anything. But the cats of Riverclan themselves; they deserved anything he could offer.

“Hsst! Look!”

Freefall’s head snapped up and he spotted the same movement that Bast did. The barest flick of movement, like a paw stepping away into the mists, said that this was real.

But this wasn’t in Riverclan territory. It was on the other side of the horseplace…. The territory of what had to be Windclan.

“Oh no, oh no, what should we do?” Bast danced in place.

“Can you confirm that it was Bloodfang we saw?” Freefall asked.

There was a long silence and the she meowed unwillingly, “No.”

“And are we welcome in Windclan territory?”

“…No.” indecision and frustration warred like two warriors in his mate’s eyes as she gave her answer. Her rump hit the chilled earth with a thump as she stared after the vanished cat. “My love, you have the unwanted ability to point out unpleasant truths.”

Freefall blinked sympathetically back at her. “Your heart is in the right place, but we haven’t proven ourselves to those cats yet. Why would they believe us?”

She gave him a half glare. “Unpleasant truths.” She repeated, and stomped off to ‘investigate’ the slats of wood the twolegs were erecting on the now hardened Poured Stone.

Freefall closed his eyes and shook his head. He understood her sentiments. He really did. But nothing good would come from distracting the clan by telling stories that had no backing.

Bloodfang definitely had a plan in his maddened skull, if that truly was Bloodfang entering Windclan territory. Bold as a monster, that one. More dangerous than several monsters, if he had his way. At least monsters didn’t go _hunting_ for cats to slay.

The fog slowly lifted as the day went on. The pounding and whining of twoleg tools rarely abated. The rumble and roar of the monsters drowned everything but each other when they stirred themselves. The monster with the jaws helped lift a large beam up, obeying the barks and gestures of the twolegs.

Mostly immune to the horrendous racket, Bast and Freefall lay down to doze throughout most of the day. When the unbearable racket finally slowed and then ended, the sun had sunk to the point where twoleg visibility was limited. Sending weary sounds to one another, the twolegs drifted away from the framework skeleton of the new Horseplace.

Slowly the scent of food wafted from the collection of twolegs and the two kittypets meandered over to claim their share of food. Now that the framework was up, they would begin earning their true keep throughout the night.

Mice were always eager to investigate new buildings. As of yet, they would find no place to hide, but a few of the bravest rodents would certainly scout it out. Tonight, the kittypets would pounce and bite and prowl. The twolegs knew the two cats hunted mice, and didn’t need to see proof of the hunting skills. This meant that the kittypets would be free to pass the mice across the border to Riverclan.

As the sun sank and the temperature dropped, the kittypets patrolled the unfinished framework and the pens where the horses were normally kept. By the time a full moon had risen through the chilly air, a few mice had found themselves beneath the sharp claws of the kittypets.

“Hello. What do you think they’re up to?” Bast looked up, a mouse in her jaws and spotted what Freefall was indicating. A large group of cats was streaming out of Windclan territory. Skirting Bloodfang’s boggy hideaway, they continued on until they reached Riverclan territory. An equally large patrol of Riverclan cats met them, mingled, and vanished beyond the kittypets’ line of sight.

“No sounds of fighting.” Bast observed, putting the small body between her paws. “No yowls, no snarls. I guess it couldn’t have been Bloodfang.” She sighed.

Freefall’s whiskers twitched. “You sound disappointed.”

“Not disappointed, really. I wouldn’t wish that Rogue’s mad scheme on any cat. It’s just that I had such a bad feeling when I spotted that movement, and now I’m left to wonder if I was being mousehearted for nothing.” Bast turned her gaze back toward the lake and the direction the two groups of cats had vanished.

“You aren’t mousehearted,” Freefall chided. “If you had a bad feeling, then there’s a reason for it. That reason just hasn’t come about yet.”

“That’s what makes it worse.” Bast closed her eyes and shook her head until her ears snapped. “Waiting for a tree to fall, wondering where it will hit, who it will hurt or kill…”

“And in the time you sit about waiting, the relatives of the mouse you caught will dance about your paws and squeak insults at you.” Freefall swatted Bast’s nose gently with the tip of his tail. “Come on fluff brain, let’s do something useful while our ears are perked.”

Bast’s whiskers twitched. “All right, all right. If all we can do is offer food to the clan, then food is what we will get them.”

Freefall crouched low half the night later, his eyes fixed on a particularly plump mouse. Suddenly Blast blundered into him and the mouse vanished into a hole.

“Bast what in the-“ he started angrily, and was silenced by a tail flicking across his muzzle.

Bewildered he started to raise his head and then hastily ducked low again as a baleful yellow eye swung in his direction.

It was Bloodfang; there was no mistaking that one eye. And dangling from his jaws was either the fattest rat from Windclan territory, or else another stolen kit. Freefall placed no bets on the rat theory.

“Where is that fox heart taking that kit?” Bast whispered in a poisonous hiss. “The monsters aren’t destroying any more nests.”

“Asking may give you an unpleasant answer.” Freefall growled, and dropped low to the ground.

Bast didn’t need any encouragement, and followed suit; stalking the Rogue. Both cats froze and closed their eyes to slits whenever the one-eyed cat looked their way. Bloodfang moved quickly but quietly, leaving Windclan territory behind and slipping into the tall reeds that ringed his hideaway.

Not three heartbeats later, the Windclan patrol streamed out of Riverclan territory and made their way back toward their own territory.

“Wait!” Bast meowed frantically, bolting after the cats and racing to catch up. ‘Wait please! I beg you!”

Several cats spun and snarled at the kittypet.

“Get lost!”

“Crawl back to your twolegs, kittypet, you’ll get no hand outs from Windclan.”

“Yeah! Go to Thunderclan for that!”

There we several snickers. The cats began to turn away.

“Wait! I just saw a Rogue leaving your territory. I think he might have one of your kits.” Bast pleaded, her eyes wide and earnest.

“Oh shut up. We don’t have time to listen to kittypet tales. Windclan cats can smell an intruder from far away. No cat can drag his stink into Windclan territory without every warrior knowing about it.” A dark gray tom curled his lip.

“You tell them, Swiftstar.”

More laughter.

“For the love of your kits, listen!” Freefall snapped, appearing at Bast’s shoulder. “His name is Bloodfang, and he’s the one that stole the Riverclan kit.”

One or two cats did a double take and looked at the kittypets with fresh gazes.

But Swiftstar snorted. “Just because a clan of furry fish can’t track the foul smell of a Rogue in their own territory doesn’t make it Windclan’s problem.”

“But-“

“Shut up, or I’ll shut you up myself.” Swiftstar spun and stalked off, ordering his cats to follow with an imperious wave of his tail.

Bast gaped after them. A few cats glanced back, gazes uncertain, but drew off into the darkness to obey their leader’s orders.

“Why that stuck up… stone hearted… mange ridden… dung brained… RAT!” Bast exploded. “The heartbeat anyone mentioned a kit and a Rogue in the same breath, I would get the whole story even if I had to sit on them!”

“He is proud, and has to put on a strong front.” Freefall guessed. He angled his ears toward Windclan territory. “Look. No trees for as far as the eye can see. Little shelter. Just open ground. I bet those cats have no idea how a cat can sneak about using plants to hide themselves.”

“But if it’s open, how did Bloodfang avoid being spotted?” Bast paced in a tight little path.

“The fog. And then, night. Keep in mind, if there are ditches carved by water in Riverclan, why wouldn’t there be ditches in Windclan too? This place received a lot of rain this Newleaf or even Greenleaf. Too much water washes away the soil. Plants grow around the low water source and… well… when it dries, it’s a tunnel for snake hearts to creep around in.”

“So what do we do?” Bast meowed.

“We go to Riverclan. They were prepared for Bloodfang. They still are. Surely they’ll help a kit, no matter who his parents are.” Freefall picked up the mice he had caught and waited for his mate to do the same. Then the two cats trekked toward the Riverclan border.

 

.

 

Ivypaw sniffed deeply, eyes roving through the wavy grass in vain hope for a flash of calico fur. Dawnkit had gone missing, and Ivypaw felt responsible. He had promised to show the kit how to do the hunter’s crouch, and had been exhausted by the fat rabbit he had managed to chase down that day. The two were related, and Ivypaw felt an older sibling’s responsibility for putting off his promise to the kit. If he could find the silly tuft of fur before the others knew she was gone, they could both avoid trouble.

As it was, he was so focused on the kit’s trail that he fell straight into the ditch before he knew it was there. Too high to climb out of, and unsure which direction to go, he picked a direction and padded along; praying he could reach a spot where she could climb out farther along.

Abruptly, his nose dragged him to the wall. Clear as the sun, there was Dawnkit’s scent. The kit must have brushed up against the wall after falling in here. How odd though, it was oddly high on the wall for such a tiny kit to have reached. Had she tried jumping out and hit the wall? A sense of duty filled the apprentice. If this was the way Dawnkit went then he was that much closer to finding his wayward family member.

The further he went, the thicker the air felt, until the apprentice grimaced. The overhanging grass seemed to do more than disguise the ditch for what it was; it also kept the smells in. Mud. And rotten vegetation. Yuck!

Another smell ticked his thoughts, but he couldn’t place it. It smelled like another cat, but he couldn’t be sure. And surely the warriors would have known about a Rogue skulking through Windclan territory, wouldn’t they?

Wouldn’t they?

Ivypaw felt unsure. The air in here felt stale, as if the clean breezes of the territory never stirred here. If the scent never left the ditch, then no warrior would know it was there. And the fact that the Rogue’s scent overlaid the kit’s scent spurred the apprentice along faster, a sense of foreboding filling his chest. By the time he burst into the open, he was racing along full tilt and had to dig his claws into the soft mud at the shore of the lake to keep from falling straight in.

Looking around, he realized that the ditch had come out near the horseplace. Monsters loomed in the distance, finally quiet after a day’s racket. The beginnings of a new horseplace stuck out of the ground like the bleached bones of a long-dead giant beast.

Dawnkit’s scent was fainter in the clear air, but it headed straight into the marshy, mucky bog that sat between Riverclan and Windclan. If Dawnkit had fallen into that… Ivypaw’s heart skipped a beat and he trailed the scent, praying to Starclan that it didn’t head into that horrible, paw sucking doom.

It did. The apprentice stifled a moan of horror. The reeds wiggled a bit and Ivypaw dared to hope that the kit was going to hop out and boast about her ability to hide.

“Looking for something?” The voice chilled Ivypaw to his bones.

A single hate filled eye burned in the darkness and an evil chuckle ruffled the fur on his back. Claws seized his shoulders painfully, and a pair of jaws clamped down on his muzzle.

The last thing she heard before blacking out was Dawnkit’s wail. “Don’t hurt him! He’s my brother!”


	5. Chapter 5

Ivypaw’s head ached fiercely. He was, amazingly, alive. He had to be. Surely cats of Starclan didn’t hurt like this… or have tiny paws drumming frantically on their ears.

“Ivypaw! Ivypaw please wake up! Oh don’t be dead! Great Starclan, don’t let him be dead!”

“I’m…” Ivypaw croaked, “I’m not dead. Stop it Dawnkit. My head hurts enough as it is.”

“Sorry. I was afraid he killed you.” Dawnkit slid with great care from the apprentice’s back and onto the mat of reeds that formed their prison.

Looking around, Ivypaw had to swallow a moan of despair. Nothing to see but reeds towering in every direction, anchored in foul smelling mud. There was no way to know what direction to head in, as the reeds loomed so close and tall that neither cat could see the horizon.

“Be careful how you move,” Dawnkit meowed. “When you were dumped in here, the reeds sank so far that I was afraid we would be swamped. Every move you make causes the mud to seep in around us, and it only floats okay when you hold still.”

A dead frog abruptly sailed in at them and landed on Ivypaw’s back. He gasped and jumped. Dawnkit squeaked in alarm as mud colored water sloshed in around them. The apprentice forced himself to freeze, and the treacherous prison floor steadied. Mud drained back and both cats let out their breath slowly.

“Told you. Let me.”

Ivypaw carefully redistributed his weight as the kit retrieved the freshkill from the edge of the mat, where it had nearly fallen into the muck and been lost.

“Here.” Dawnkit presented the frog to her brother and wrinkled her nose. “Sorry it’s not as yummy as Windclan rabbit, but it’s all he feeds me. They taste like rotten fish and mud.” She warned.

Ivypaw winced as he took a few bites and offered the rest to the kit. She was right. It tasted horrible. But he forced himself the swallow the chilled flesh. Who knew when they’d get another meal or when they’d be rescued?

“What happened to you?” He finally asked, when the rogue showed no further interest in them.

“You looked so tired after your run that I thought I would practice by myself. All the other kits and queens were outside, to ask for the latest Gathering gossip, so no one would be bothered if I pounced and crouched around in the nursery. Suddenly this ugly hateful cat popped his head through the heather, grabbed me and dragged me backward. We were away and into a ditch before I thought to yowl for help, and he told me not to make a peep. He put me here and left me a dead frog. ‘That’ll keep you busy.’ He said, and then left. I’ve been here almost all night.”

“I tracked you here.”

“I know.” Dawnpaw’s shoulders sagged, “I almost wish you hadn’t. Then you wouldn’t be stuck in here with me.”

“It’s not your fault! You understand me?” Ivypaw fixed her with his most stern glare. “I would have fought the foxes for you. I’m willing to fight this rogue if I have to.”

“Keep your voice down.” Dawnpaw hissed in a whisper. “You never know when he’s listening. The last time I yowled for help, he pinned me to the mat and made it sink. He told me if I tried to fight or get away that he’d let the mud have me.”

Ivypaw stifled a growl. To threaten a helpless kit like that! Whoever he had been, there was no trace of honor or the warrior code left in him. The two prisoners were objects to him. Things. Bargaining pieces. If they became more trouble than they were worth… Ivypaw shuddered, imagining _exactly_ what would happen to them.

 

.

 

Bast and Freefall were met with surprise and then gratitude when they brought the mice into Riverclan territory.

“We hunt the mice all the time for the twolegs. Usually it’s just wasted. This way…” Freefall shrugged.

“Not that Riverclan needs cats to hunt for them, of course.” Bast added innocently.

Birdstar’s whiskers were quivering suspiciously, as though struggling to hide amusement as well as gratitude for the diplomatic offer. “Of course. I doubt any warrior would refuse prey that would otherwise be crowfood.”

No cat lingered over the fact that Riverclan’s freshkill pile was dismayingly low as the mice were placed within it. When the monsters moved, the very soil quivered, creating ripples in the surface of the lake. No fish would come near the shore with that kind of disturbance. And no cat could see beyond the disturbed surface even if they had.

“We’re not just here for a social visit, I’m afraid,” Freefall meowed solemnly as Bast quietly greeted Secretweb with a purr. “We just witnessed Bloodfang carrying a kit out of Windclan territory and into his boggy lair.”

The welcoming purrs died as though frozen in their owner’s throats.

“Did you tell Swiftstar?” Birdstar’s expression said that he already guessed the answer.

“We did and we were rebuffed.” Bast growled curtly. “They didn’t want to listen to a couple of kittypets.”

Scornful snorts, exasperated sighs and muttering ran around the clan.

“Proud fool.” Birdstar rolled his eyes. “I guess there’s no time to wait for that Rogue’s next move. We can’t leave a kit in his clutches.”

A large patrol was quickly sorted out and sent with Rustpelt, Riverclan’s Deputy. “We need to be careful and we need to go quiet.” The deputy murmured, “If he gets a whiff that someone is here to rescue his hostages, they could be in danger.”

"We need a plan." Freefall murmured to Rustpelt as the warriors and kittypets crept within sight of the lake. "You still can't just jump into that stuff and swim like an otter right up to Bloodfang's hideaway."

"You're right." Rustpelt surveyed the foul smelling expanse. "But Bloodfang can move about in it, somehow. And we all know that a former Shadowclan cat wouldn't be swimming like a Riverclan cat without training."

"Are you saying there's a path in that?" Bast surveyed the swampy area with wide, unblinking eyes.

"Yes. Possibly more than one. He's had time to scout the whole area out. There are enough frogs, bird eggs and frogspawn in there to feed more than one bee brained Rogue if he knows where to go."

"Soo... what... do we all swim around it prodding at the muck till we find a place that our paws touch bottom?" Clearlake asked, trying not to sound like he was challenging his deputy but sounding exasperated all the same.

Rustpelt shook her head, only allowing a spark of annoyance to show. "Absolutely not. Look there." She nodded toward the skeleton of the twoleg nest. "Bast, Freefall, do you ever climb those things?"

Understanding sparked in Freefall's eyes. "I do. Do you want me to look from above?"

At the deputy's approving nod, Freefall bounded fearlessly up to the skeleton and leaped upward. His strong claws scraped on the slippery wood and began sliding backward. Moving his legs in quick, grasping thrusts, he slithered up where most reasonable cats would never dare trust their grips. But Freefall got his name for more than one reason, and only needed a fleeting grip to propel himself upward.

Murmured and stifled mews of amazement, disbelief, awe and quite a bit of alarm from the Riverclan cats made his whiskers twitch. He was certain more than one cat muttered about how crazy he had to be. But crazy or not, he was soon perching high above the ground and staring down at the marshy hideaway. Keeping his body low among the beams, he stared downward with his eyes narrowed.

The reeds waved and rippled like the surface of the lake. The fading moonlight made the depths of the hideaway as black as a fox's heart. But after several heartbeats of straining to see beyond the surface, he went rigid. Two cats could barely be seen, huddled on a loosely woven mat of rushes. One nearly big enough to be a warrior, one tiny form that could only be a kit. Two! Two cats! Windclan would be coming for blood, and that blood would be Riverclan's if they couldn't be made to see reason!

Frantically he scanned beyond and around the two captives and was barely able to see thin trails worn among the endlessly waving curtain of plants. There was Bloodfang, curled comfortably on a well made mat of reeds held securely above the muck by sticks and twigs. He stifled a growl. The captives barely had room to move, and it looked like one wrong move would send them both into the sucking doom all around them. Even cats taken captive by opposing clans would be treated better than this!

Memorizing the paths, he slithered back down the slippery wood and rejoined the waiting cats. He sketched carefully the way the paths wound through the marsh to show Riverclan where they went.

"So what we need... is a distraction." Rustpelt meowed. "Like..."

"Like war?" Growled a low enraged voice.

Bast wasn't the only cat who jumped.

"We've been listening." Swiftstar rumbled, his eyes raking over the Riverclan cats. "We heard that kittypet tell you that our apprentice and kit is in that muck. We've listened as you made plans. And now we're going to tell you that you will not keep Windclan out of your plan."

"But… but how..." Clearlake stuttered.

Swiftstar snorted, "We found the ditch. When Ivypaw went missing too, we tracked him right to the ditch. And we followed it. And now, here we are."

"It was never Riverclan's intention to play at being the hero." Rustpelt said smoothly, "Windclan is the most important part of the whole plan."

"Glad to know you can see reason." Swiftstar growled. "If he wants a war, then he'll get a war... of sorts." A cunning gleam came to life in the Windclan leader's eyes.

Freefall kept his whiskers very still. Rustpelt had a silver tongue. It almost sounded as though Windclan had been a part of the rescue plan all along. The last thing he wanted was to insult the proud leader by showing triumph at Rustpelt's deft manipulation.

"Let's get down to business." Swiftstar came forward to join the Riverclan cats and eyed the map with a critical eye.

 

.

 

"Filthy Riverclan scum!" Swiftstar yowled, "Give them back!"

"We don't have your stupid cats!" Rustpelt sneered back, "Get back into your own territory and stiff in rabbit holes! They're not in Riverclan lands!"

"Lies! This is revenge for your own lost kit! Windclan! Attack!"

The screeches of rage quickly became a cacophony of wrestling, tumbling cats. Only a cat in the middle of the mess would know that the claws were sheathed, and that teeth never closed in the bites.

A gleaming yellow eye watched eagerly from the edge of the marshes, wide in pleasure and anticipation. Eventually, the fight would result in more than blood. Surely a cat would be killed. The crazed Rogue savored the thought like a juicy bit of prey, claws kneading the trail beneath the surface of his swampy lair. It was just a matter of time. He silently marked potential cats in his mind.

On the far side of the marsh, Freefall, and two warriors crept to the edge of the solid ground.

Freefall put a paw into the muck, and it sank without resistance. He had not expected the trail to be so deep below the surface. Runningwhisker, father of both missing Windclan cats, grabbed his scruff to keep him from falling in. Freefall struggled to get his footing for two frantic heartbeats, and then his paw came into contact with a thin strip of solid ground.

“Got it.” He whispered. “And thanks.”

Slowly the Windclan cat eased his grip. “You’re welcome.”

“It’s only two paws wide,” he warned, “and the muck will come up nearly to your spine. Move by sliding your paws along it rather than lifting them up.”

One by one, the two warriors trailed after him, sinking into the foul smelling stuff with grimaces of distaste. It quickly became obvious why the Rogue looked the way he did; not only did the foul stuff cling to fur, but it was everywhere. No bit of the path reached the surface of the mud. Bathing one’s fur would be quite pointless, since it would only get filthy again the next time a cat walked these paths.

The paths were treacherous, and all three took an unplanned dunking at one time or another when the path abruptly changed direction on them. Moving as quickly as he dared, Freefall led the way to the spot where the two captives should be.

“Hisst! Ivypaw! Dawnkit!” a muddy, bedraggled looking cat with Runningwhisper’s voice hissed.

“F-father?”

“Here.” Runningwhisker popped his head through the reeds. “We need to get you out of here. The distraction won’t last for a moon you know.”

“Put your paws right here.” Freefall meowed, raising a front paw as high as he could without shifting his weight onto his hindquarters. “It will come up to…” the kittypet made a quick measurement with his eyes, “...your chin. Reach out, slowly.”

“I-it’s too deep for me.” Dawnkit whimpered, her eyes wide in the dimming light.

“Ride on Ivypaw’s back.” Runningwhisper suggested, “and hold on tight.”

“Be brave,” Ivypaw suggested to his sister, “like Lionclan.”

The trembling kit repeated it to herself like a mantra as the apprentice shifted his weight and placed a paw on top of Freefall’s.

Slowly the kittypet let his paw sink, guiding the apprentice’s paw to the path hidden beneath the mud. Neither apprentice nor kit made a sound as the mud flooded their treacherous prison and seeped up Ivypaw’s sides, over his back, and then up the kit’s legs, but it was obvious both were terrified. Soon all that could be seen of either cat was a pair of wide eyed heads, breathing hard and trying not to thrash in panic.

“Very good, you’ve got it. You’re safe.” Freefall soothed. Reaching out, he held his breath, dipped his muzzle under the surface to grab the apprentice’s scruff. Slowly he dragged Ivypaw forward and off the mat.

Ivypaw bucked briefly, eyes so wide that there was a rim of white around his eyes. “I can’t find the path with my hind legs. Don’t let go!”

“Shhhh,” Runningwhisker soothed, as Freefall tightened his grip. “keep still. Freefall is a good cat. He won’t drop you.

Freefall’s lungs were screaming, and his tilted his head up, relieved when the apprentice proved buoyant enough to lift to the surface. The kittypet snorted his nostrils clear, took a few breaths and then backed along the trail, the two warriors already having gotten out of the way.

“Got it!” Ivypaw’s whole body relaxed as his hind paws found the solid ground.

Freefall released him, sneezed his nose clean and took several relieved breaths. “Let’s get out of this horrible stuff.” He growled, trying not to spit the mud out too loudly.

Runningwhisper and Clearlake separated from Freefall and the two young Windclan cats as they came to a branch in the narrow path. The two warriors had been tasked to drive the hateful Rogue out of hiding so he could be dealt with. Bast waited anxiously on the shore, ready to help pull the cats free of the clinging marsh. First Dawnkit, then Ivypaw were lifted free, with Freefall pushing from behind.

Just as Freefall climbed free, a sudden yowl of shock and pain cut through the night air. All battling came to an end instantly.

Bloodfang surged out of the swamp to land clumsily at the feet of the two clans, sporting twin bleeding scratches on his hindquarters.

Clearlake and Runningwhisker climbed onto the shore, eyes narrowed and lips drawn back from their teeth in outraged snarls. Crouching side by side, they blocked the Rogue’s retreat.

“Well, well, look what the very swamps spat out.” Rustpelt sneered.

Bloodfang stared from one cat to another, looking shocked and then outraged that the two clans had faked their war. There was no remorse in his single eye.

“ _You faked my war_?!” he spat. “You cheated!”

“Your war? Cheated? What nonsense is this, dungbrain?” Swiftstar did not flinch from the crazed look in the cat’s eye, “You cheated when you stole a kit, cheated again when you attacked an apprentice and then tried to incite a war between peaceful clans.” Swiftstar frowned, squinted a bit and then gasped, “Sparkfire! That’s who you are! Oh the mighty Shadowclan warrior has fallen!”

“Not anymore!” Bloodfang’s voice almost thundered, “I am Bloodfang and I will have my war!”

“You are nothing but a pathetic Shadowclan outcast.” Rustpelt’s voice was cutting, “You were cast out of your own clan...”

“No!” Bloodfang shook his head as though to deny the truth’s ringing in his ears.

“…tried to join Riverclan and were cast out again…”

“I am Bloodfang!”

“...and now, Sparkfire, you drew in Windclan, a clan that should have escaped your rage.”

“I am not Sparkfire!”

“Yes. You are.” Swiftstar cut in. “No leader gave you that name. It's not recognized by Starclan. And now you have declared war upon three clans at the lake. Three clans now offer you no sanctuary.”

“Four,” Rustpelt reminded the Windclan leader, “after tonight. Word will spread. There will be no place for you to hide, Rogue.”

“And what will you do?” Bloodfang’s eye grew crafty, “It is the night of the full moon. The truce must hold. Furthermore, your Warrior code forbids the killing of other cats.”

“The moon went down a while ago.” Bast meowed coolly, sauntering over. “The truce for the clans is technically over.”

“And you are a fool.” Swiftstar meowed cuttingly, “I am a clan leader, and I know the warrior code as well as any cat. You have proven yourself outside the warrior code, and thus, are not protected by it.”

A spark of fear flashed through the Rogue’s eyes, quickly covered by bravado, “Name the cat to kill me then.” He blustered. “Which cat among you wants to be haunted by the memory of a cold blooded murder?”

No voice spoke up. No cat wanted the burden, and not even the prickly Winclan leader was willing to order a cat to take it up.

“That’s what I thought!” Bloodfang got to his paws and sneered at the clan cats. “None of you is cruel enough to kill me when I am not attacking. You don’t have the guts. So what will you do? Banish me again?” He threw back his head and yowled a scornful laugh.

“You’re right, banishment is not good enough.” Rustpelt spat, her claws flexing. With grim determination, she closed in on the Rogue. Freefall could see that she was willing to take the burden if it meant safety for kits again.

But Bloodfang was quick witted and canny. Bounding around the warriors that tried to seize him, he evaded the lash of claws from the Deputy, leaped onto one of the massive monsters and jeered down at them like a demented parody of a clan Leader calling a meeting. “I will make the clans bleed. You cannot stop me if you cannot fight me! Blood will flow until the lake reeks of it from shore to shore. When I come for you in the middle of the night, remember that all of you were too useless to…”

A flash of lightning, too near for comfort, blinded every cat, and a rumble of thunder made the ground shudder.

“Wh-where did those clouds come from?” Bast mewled weakly, huddling low to the ground as an icy wind cut through the dim, predawn light.

“Starclan is very, very, _very_ angry.” Swiftstar’s meow was subdued as he stared upward.


	6. Chapter 6

Black clouds had rolled over the lake, plunging it into almost utter darkness. There was another brilliant flash and all clan cats ducked in alarm. The roar of thunder beat into their bones, and sounded like the roaring of some massive, enraged cat.

Freefall was already on the move. His first memory was of his mother, telling him that his ancestors stretched far away to a time when twolegs worshipped them. They hunted prey in places considered barren of life by most other cats. They were also ancient and deadly fighters. He felt as though he veins were on fire, throbbing with every beat of his heart. His claws hard and sharp. He could feel his muscles sliding under his pelt in perfect rhythm.

He was Freefall. He was reckless. He was bold. He could climb things most cats couldn’t, and made fantastic leaps that made hearts leap into the mouths of other cats. And he was not going to waste this opportunity. Leg muscles coiled like springs and released. In two leaps, he was on the monster’s shoulder, just below the place where the twolegs usually sat when working with it.

Bloodfang was staring up at the sky in confusion.

Bloodfang was distracted.

Bloodfang was unprepared.

Freefall made his move, lunging forward and slamming his larger body into Bloodfang’s own.

The wind was knocked clean out of the Rogue’s lungs, choking off any yowl of surprise as the strength of the kittypet’s attack carried both cats into open space.

Freefall kicked free of Bloodfang and twisted in the air. Wind rushed through his fur as his paws came down… and absorbed the impact. He landed heavily, but he landed right.

Bloodfang was a cat, and like any cat, he was designed to land on his paws. He was not, however, as large. Nor were his legs as long. His feet came down, and he slammed into the cold hard ground. His legs couldn’t cushion the impact enough. There was a _crrrack_ as the Rogue’s chin followed his feet against the ground, and the Rogue made a wheezing sound and spat out two broken fangs.

“Gyew bade be bide my hung.” The Rogue wheezed as air finally returned to his lungs. “hand you brog by teef.” He spat out a mouthful of blood, but he was bleeding freely, and it continued to dribble from his damaged muzzle.

“Mighty Rogue, whining about biting his tongue and breaking his teeth.” Freefall sneered as lightning flashed again, highlighting the scene dramatically. “You are a failure. Admit it.”

“Wrong! I gilled a git. I stode anodder, and I cabured a brentice.”

“You didn’t kill the kit. My mate and I saved her before the monster devoured the nest.” Freefall began to circle, claws biting into the ground and tail lashing. “Failure!” A boom of thunder growled long and low.

“Whad?!”

“You captured another kit. Oh that’s something to brag about. How mighty must you feel to know that you can bully cats younger and smaller than you! You don’t have the power to challenge a warrior directly. Failure!”

“Bud Ribberclad…”

“Yeeessss.” The kittypet hissed, “Let’s talk about Riverclan. The clan that welcomed you. That offered you a second chance. The clan that asked for a demonstration. Only requesting proof that you had honor and fighting skills. You had neither. You tried to murder a warrior in front of the whole clan, and forced another warrior to wound you to save her life. Failure!”

“Dey nebber should hab tagen by eye!” Bloodfang’s rage had been rekindled and he flicked out a claw, deadly and quick, for Freefall’s throat.

The kittypet skittered away and darted back, again slamming into the rogue and driving him off his feet again. Bloodfang slid along the ground and spluttered, flailing briefly before regaining his footing.

“Flea brain!” Freefall spat, “They never would have taken your eye if you had released the warrior when you should have!”

“I-I had a blan…”

“Yesss, a plan that turned a third clan against you. Face it, you failed to kill a kit. Your stole a second, captured and tormented an apprentice. Tried to drive two clans to war just to watch cats die. And yet, the kits and apprentice are alive and safe. Your war plan failed. Two clans want you dead. Your original clan never wants to see you again. By the time the sun hits its highest point, the fourth clan will attack you on sight.” Freefall closed in on the rogue again. “Face it, Sparkfire…”

The rogue screeched in rage at the use of his discarded name.

“…I doubt even Starclan wants you among their ranks.”

The rage in Bloodfang’s eye went out like fire in the rain. He stared back at the sky. The flash of lightning seemed to illuminate countless points of light within the clouds; eyes, all glaring downward. The rumble of thunder was a clear, disapproving growl.

“All I wanded was rebenge on Batches.”

Freefall thought the name was ‘Patches,’ but he had never met a cat of that name while at the lake, so he ignored it. “Revenge? You got your revenge, Sparkfire. The problem is, it’s all revenge that’s wanted from you, not the other way around.” Freefall’s claws flexed.

Bloodfang spun on him, eye blazing in fury. “I ab Bloodfang!” The rogue threw himself at Freefall, claws swiping.

The fight was an odd one. Bloodfang, for all that he was a Rogue, had warrior training. Freefall was only a kittypet with a few skills learned while he had been struggling to protect his mate. It evened the scales somewhat that Bloodfang’s jaw and mouth were in agony and he could not bite. But his claws were sharp and the blows hurt. Both cats were covered thickly in dry mud, which made actually reaching skin a very difficult task.

The two tumbled, snarled, spat and clawed. The clans watched solemnly, both anxious for Freefall’s safety and none daring to interrupt. A lucky lunge, and he had Bloodfang’s throat in his jaws. Bloodfang screeched and battered at Freefall’s stomach with all four legs, each blow growing more frantic as his grip tightened. Then the Rogue gathered his strength and landed a double kick straight to Freefall’s belly.

He cursed as he lost his grip on his foe, allowing the rogue to writhe free as he wheezed. Bloodfang swatted and lashed, then abruptly spun and bolted away from the lake. His head start was short lived, as Freefall’s longer legs allowed him to seize the rogue’s fleeing tail in his mouth and bite down. There was a wrench in his neck and shoulders and Bloodfang’s flight was suddenly, and painfully arrested. Bloodfang screeched. Freefall yanked. The Rogue whipped around and his claws raked across Freefall’s face.

Red hot pain shot through Freefall’s face from his eyes to his jaw and he lost his hold on the Rogue again.

Half blinded, he lunged again and missed, the Rogue scrambling up the nearest monster’s hard sides half a whisker ahead of the kittypet’s grasping claws.

Bloodfang’s laughter echoed down at them all. “Fool kittypet! You cannot fight what you cannot catch! Well come on then, come up and catch me. Let’s see how many of you I can throw into empty space!” He clambered higher and higher on the monster, taunting as he went.

A shadow moved, and a swift blow sent Rustpelt sliding sown the monster’s slippery sides. She had been using his ranting to sneak up on the rogue from another direction. She hadn’t gotten close enough.

But she had served her purpose as a distraction. Bast darted out of a shadow and leaped, slamming onto Bloodfang’s back. Teeth fastened onto the rogue’s scruff, she shook him hard, then planted a paw on the back of his head and slammed his muzzle down on the monster’s hard skin.

Already in pain, the impact had to feel ten times worse. Bloodfang howled and heaved, trying to throw the kittypet clear. Bast was nearly unseated but recovered enough to lift his head and slam it down again. “Be still!”

Strength flooded into Freefall and he leaped his way up the monster, ready to help his mate. Seeing his doom in the eyes of the charging kittypet, Bloodfang twisted, caught Bast with both front paws and shoved her as hard as he could. The monster was too slick to regain her balance and Freefall hastily shifted his weight and position, letting his mate slide into him and carry them both off of the monster in a much gentler fall than a full impact would have.

Bloodfang laughed mockingly.

The sky split, and a bolt of lightning struck the massive monster that Bloodfang was standing upon. The roar deafened every cat, and the stunned kittypets pitched backward, fur prickling at the nearness of the terrible bolt of energy.

The after image of several furious cats, all made out of little legs of lightning and white hot light, seemed burned into the backs of his eyelids. His dazzled eyes tried to focus properly. He could have sworn… no… Of course not. It was lightning. Cats made out of lightning couldn’t have attacked the rogue and bitten his throat. That fool rogue had chosen the largest metal thing in the area to stand upon. Of _course_ the lightning had been attracted to it.

His ears rang and his fur seemed to buzz with the energy from the charged air. His face throbbed, and something sticky seemed to be gluing his left eye shut.

 “-pet? Are you well?” The ringing in his ears finally faded enough to hear Swiftstar asking him the question.

“Y-yes… I’m fine.” Freefall glanced over at Bast to see her rubbing at her ears with her paws.

“I’m singing from my _what_?” she meowed loudly, confusion and a good dose of righteous offense rolling off of her in waves.

“I _said_ , we’ve _all_ got a ringing in our ears. Wait a bit and it will fade.” Runningwhisker’s whiskers quivered with amusement but he gave the kittypet a sympathetic look.

Slowly the clans picked themselves up. They were all shaken but unharmed. Furtive glances were all thrown at the monster, but no cat seemed particularly eager to investigate where the Rogue’s body might have fallen. The horrible stench of burned fur and overcooked meat wafted through the air and made Freefall’s stomach churn. No, there was no reason to investigate.

The next flash of lightning seemed far away, and the growl of thunder more distant, like an afterthought. The gleaming eyes among the clouds faded, and the stars above glittered with their familiar, cool light. By the time every cat had sorted into their clans again, the clouds were rapidly breaking apart to reveal a chilly, if clear night.

“Oh Freefall, your face… it…” Bast’s wide anxious eyes locked onto her mate’s injuries.

“If it means that filthy Rogue is gone, then I welcome a few scars.” Freefall flinched from Bast’s gentle tongue. “Please Bast, I’d rather no one touch it quite yet.”

“What about me?” Appleseed appeared out of the early morning shadows, “I am a Medicine Cat. Will you let me take care of it?”

Freefall was too tired and frazzled to wonder how the cat had known to come all the way from the Riverclan camp at just such a moment. Instead he just nodded and let the gentle Medicine Cat inspect him. Tongue flicking out with a touch like a butterfly, he cleaned Freefall’s injuries for him and then patted something herbal onto it.

“It looked worse than it is,” he assured them. “Head wounds always bleed more. Will you come back to the camp with me? If I can tend to it properly, it won’t even scar.”

Freefall nodded, but paused as Swiftstar approached. “I wish to thank you, kittypet,” he meowed, he looked very formal and stiff, but there was real gratitude in his eyes, “You rescued two of my clan, though you owed us less than nothing for the way we treated you earlier tonight. And you fought that rogue like a warrior. Kittypet or not, you have earned Windclan’s respect.”

Freefall nodded his head respectfully, “I do not consider any debts to be owed. We were just glad to help. Your young ones are all right?”

“Nothing a good bath and a proper meal wouldn’t cure.” Swiftstar called his weary cats around him with a wave of his tail.

“A bath is not something I am looking forward to.” Freefall admitted, glancing down at his fur, which had dried into stiff, funny smelling spikes from his ribs down to his toes. The stuff had protected him from many of the rogue’s blows, but it still smelled terrible.

“Several of us will be tasting that stuff for days,” Clearlake meowed in shared misery.

The two clans parted ways, and Appleseed soon had Bast settled in a nest a little apart from the rest of the cats, and Freefall laying in a comfortable spot in the Medicine Cat’s den.

Rustpelt turned is warm gaze upon the kittypets. He seemed to have a lot he wanted to say, but finally all he could get out was a simple, “Sleep well, my friends.”


	7. Chapter 7

The sun was warm on Freefall’s body and he opened his eyes to a sunny riverbank. Strange cats purred and splashed in the lazily moving water. Other cats wove their way through the trees, slipped through the shadows or raced across an open moor. Each group smelled differently, but all were happy and at peace.

Feeling lazy and content, he blinked slowly, curious but in no hurry to disturb the cats and their games.

“That was a brave and wonderful thing you did.” Startled, Freefall looked up to see a fiery orange warrior sitting next to him. Respectfully, he started to rise, but a gentle tail rested on his shoulders. “No need to move my friend, you will be sore enough when you wake up. No need to make that worse.”

“What I did? You mean for Riverclan?” Freefall didn’t argue, and settled back down in the warm grass.

“And for Windclan. And Shadowclan. And ultimately, Thunderclan. That Rogue would have spilled a lot of blood in his quest for vengeance. No clan would have been safe.”

Freefall gave the tiniest of shrugs. “I did what any proper cat would have done. Kits and young cats should be protected.”

“Not every cat thinks the same, and very few kittypets would have made the effort you did. They certainly wouldn’t have started a fight.” The orange warrior spoke as if he knew from experience.

Freefall flicked his tail in acknowledgement. The streets had been a harsh place to live, and he had struggled to protect the kits he had fathered. No cat in the streets had thought twice about attacking Bast, kits or no kits. It wasn’t until twolegs came and gave them all the proper care and protection they needed that Freefall had had any hope for his family.

“Is this… Is this Starclan?” He asked after a heartbeat or two of companionable silence.

“It is,” the fiery cat acknowledged, “This is where warriors go when their time is over. We guide our descendents from here through dreams and signs.”

“And sometimes come through.” Freefall meowed, remembering the cats made of lightning. There was no denying it anymore, not when evidence of Starclan was all around him.

“You can have a place here, if you like.”

Startled, he looked up at the warrior, who was starting to fade out. “Us? Here?”

“Keep the code in your heart, and you and your mate will be welcome.” The warrior had faded out completely by the time he had finished speaking, and Freefall woke to a completely different voice.

“So Oakkit, what do you think we should use?”

“Ummmm…”

Freefall opened his good eye slowly to see the little gray tom with the striking orange eyes thinking hard. “Marigold,” he meowed slowly, “and… ummm, something to hold it in place….” The kit scampered off and came back with a bit of plant in his claws. “This stuff!”

“Very good. That’s catch weed,” Appleseed prompted gently.

“That right, and… um, ‘remember, we have to chew the marigold up really well so the juices can get into the wound’.” The kit recited, doing a fair imitation of Appleseed’s voice.

“Excellent!”

The kit gave a happy bounce.

“Sounds like you’ve got an apt pupil.” Freefall offered.

The kit’s chest swelled.

“Yes, I think Oakkit make a fine apprentice when he reaches the right age.” Appleseed murmured as the excited kit scampered off to brag to his mother about how well he remembered.

A bird’s shadow flitted over them both, so quickly that the light barely had time to dim, but a memory stirred in Freefall’s mind and he looked searchingly at the Riverclan cat. “Forgive me for prying,” Freefall began, “but, what about that crow made you dive into the medicine den so quickly?”

Appleseed looked puzzled for a moment, and then his expression cleared. “I am a Medicine Cat. I receive signs from Starclan. When that crow swooped down, I saw a sign. No words were spoken, but I could see the lake.”

Freefall blinked in concern as the gentle cat’s fur ruffled, and his tail twitched spasmodically on the ground.

“Blood soaked the shores of the lake. No territory was untouched. There wasn’t a cat to be seen. No prey rustled in the undergrowth, and the moon blazed down, a single, yellow burning eye.”

The kittypet shuddered. It didn’t take a Medicine Cat to interpret that image. “How awful,” was the only thing he could say.

“And then, pawprints. Stretching toward the lake from the far distance, sparkling like stars. They grew larger as they approached, until two pawprints came down upon the lake, engulfing it in sparkling light. The single eye moon winked out, returning to normal. The blood drained away, leaving the lake whole and clean. I could hear cats in every territory, going about their normal clan business. Only a single splash of blood remained; small and easily handled.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Freefall wondered out loud. He knew he wouldn’t have believed in signs back then, but he certainly would have responded to Appleseed’s request for help.

“I had a strong feeling that it would be better to let you make your own decision. Some things cannot be asked for if they are to be given freely.” Changing the subject, Appleseed turned to the kittypet. “Speaking of blood, let’s have a look at that injury of yours.”

Keeping still while Appleseed removed the poultice, he was relieved to hear a grunt of satisfaction. He carefully opened his eye. For an instant, his vision was blurred and out of focus, but a few blinks cleared it. He followed the medicine cat’s tail as he was instructed, then kept still as the newly chewed herbs were patted on, covering it again.

“Your eye shows no damage. It looks like your eyelids protected them. You were lucky. We can take this off tonight. They’re healing quite quickly. Keep them clean and they won’t even scar.”

Bast padded into camp just as Appleseed finished, proudly carrying a couple of fish in her jaws. Her high steps said that she had caught them herself.

Perking his ears, Freefall could hear the voices of warriors, calling their apprentices to their tasks for the day. Soft purrs could be heard everywhere as warrior greeted warrior contentedly.

Off in the distance, the sound of twolegs hard at work on the new horseplace proved that life had continued as usual. The monsters had finally grown silent, allowed to rest while the twolegs did smaller tasks.

“No hunting or practicing battle moves,” Appleseed warned his charge as Freefall welcomed his mate with a warm purr and shared one of the fish with her.

It gave his own heart a satisfied swell to see the fish added to the freshkill pile, which looked a bit better. A kit snatched a piece up almost immediately and padded off to the Elder’s Den. A few warriors shared tongues in the sun. The sights of the peaceful camp warmed the kittypet’s heart as they padded about.

_I helped bring this about._ He thought. _My pawprints remain, even when we leave._ In his heart, he knew the gist of everything it was to be a noble warrior, even though he wasn’t trained. This was something he could always keep in mind.

The day progressed peacefully, and by the time the kittypets returned to their twolegs, it was with great reluctance. The horseplace was nearly finished now, the skeleton of the nest covered over and the sounds of tools drifting from inside. A new monster had arrived, crouching and growing continuously to itself as hay was offloaded from its back. The fresh scent of hay tickled their noses.

Freefall and Bast knew the signs, and returned to Riverclan the next morning to say their goodbyes. This would be their last day at the lake, with the finishing touches being completed inside the nest by evening. The twolegs would leave before the horses were returned, and they would spend the cold winter with Brett in his nest, relaxing the chilly moons away before warm weather drew them out again to build something new in a new place.

Every cat in Riverclan came to see them off, the kits crowding around to thank them. Bast and Secretweb lay down to share tongues a final time. Freefall and Clearlake padded off to the raining hollow for some hurried fighting tips, so that the next time a Rogue got in the way, Freefall could remove his ears.

Appleseed reminded Freefall to keep his wounds clean, and Birdstar dipped his head respectfully to them as though from one leader to another.

“Riverclan will remember you, kittypets.” Rustpelt meowed, her eyes warm and speaking for them all. “And I think Windclan shall too.”

“We will remember you as well, all of you.” Bast meowed. Her gaze flicked to Swishkit, Hailkit and Flashkit. “Grow up to be noble warriors all right?” She meowed in mock severity, “You told me you would become great warriors, so you’d better live up to your promise.”

All three kits stood a little straighter and tried to look noble and solemn.

“But not quite yet,” Freefall mused, “You are still, after all, enjoying kithood.”

 

.

 

Brett had murmured in concern over Freefall’s healing scratches, but seemed satisfied when they proved to be healing properly. The poultice was gone, but the memories of the gentle Medicine Cat stayed with Freefall as the monster growled to life beneath his paws.

Bast turned to look at him, her eyes revealing her own conflicted emotions.

“We’ll, my love, I’d say this was a worthwhile adventure.” Freefall murmured as the first monster turned onto the thunderpath ahead of them.

“More than. We learned so much.” Bast lifted her chin as Brett’s monster began to move.

“To new experiences?”  Freefall laid his tail across his mate’s back.

“New experiences, new friends, and new places.” She pressed her cheek to his, and the two kittypets turned their gazes forward to greet a new horizon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who fell into the world of Riverclan with me! The circumference of the lake is coming full circle, and the fourth and final clan coming up is Windclan. I hope you enjoyed this story with me, and I hope we all get to enjoy the new one coming up!


End file.
